


dizzy

by orphan_account



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fix It, it's mostly pain and anguish srry, not rly hartwin but maybe if u squint, the golden circle? i barely know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 06:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20305324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: it’s easy enough to evade the situation, he finds. as arthur, harry’s in-office duties have practically quadrupled, and as galahad, eggsy is on the field more weeks than he’s home. it’s easy to move back in with his mum and daisy- into the house he’d bought with a kingsman paycheck and never set foot in- to collect what few things he’d scattered around his mentor’s home and vanish as if he’d never lived there at all.it’s easy to pretend. it’s less easy to forget.or: harry lived. eggsy doesn't want to talk about it.





	dizzy

**Author's Note:**

> i don't proofread my fics and i'm not gonna start apologizing for it now ! ! 1
> 
> (srry)

so, harry lived. eggsy doesn’t want to talk about it. 

it’s easy enough to evade the situation, he finds. as arthur, harry’s in-office duties have practically quadrupled, and as galahad, eggsy is on the field more weeks than he’s home. it’s easy to move back in with his mum and daisy- into the house he’d bought with a kingsman paycheck and never set foot in- to collect what few things he’d scattered around his mentor’s home and vanish as if he’d never lived there at all. 

it’s easy to pretend. it’s less easy to forget. 

every so often he crosses paths with harry at HQ, and harry will try valiantly to be friendly, and eggsy will turn him the coldest, most gentlemanly shoulder he can manage and be on his way. it stings in his chest like a taser shocking his entire body, but he pushes through. he _ has _ to. he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“you’re being ridiculous,” roxy tries to tell him- emphasis being on try. he knows she means well. 

“i don’t want to talk about it,” he says. 

she huffs. “can’t you see he’s trying?”

eggsy laughs, but it sounds hollow and cold. he’s half convinced himself he doesn’t feel a thing, but the sharp stab of betrayal mingling with the slow simmer of guilt deep in his veins says otherwise. “should’ve started trying a long time ago, don’t you think?”

“_ eggsy _.” before he can keep walking past her, there are hands on his shoulders holding him steady and turning him to face roxy. he can’t hide from her penetrating gaze, and he doesn’t like it. “you’re only hurting the both of you this way.”

“doesn’t hurt me none.”

“you can’t honestly think you aren’t...”

he pretends not to hear the rest of her sentence as he turns and walks down the hall. he pretends not to see harry lingering behind her. he pretends like there are still pieces of his heart left to be shattered.

eggsy pretends that everything is fine. 

\---

it’s not, and when the shit hits the fan, it does so _ royally _. 

the mission is deceptively simple, a rendezvous for a fucking flash drive eggsy rolls his eyes at, but accepts. he’s on home turf for once, dropping by a london millionaire’s shady house party to meet a woman in a blue dress, and it’ll take fifteen minutes tops to be in and out. 

it takes three hours.

eggsy’s been to enough extravagant parties through kingsman by now. he’s learned to grin and bear it, exchange practiced polite smiles with vile human beings, act like his body isn’t trying to crawl out of his skin just being in the same room as them. _ we’re not much better _, he thinks.

there’s a voice in his head that tells him they do the best they can for the greater good, and it sounds a lot like harry’s. he ignores that voice.

eggsy slides through the crowd easily, nodding politely here and there, murmuring a thank you for a glass of chardonnay from a butler. 

“that’s her, yeah?” eggsy mumbles to himself- or rather, to merlin. his eyes find a woman in a crisp blue evening gown. 

“you’re clear, galahad.”

eggsy makes a few strides her way. they lock eyes, and she smiles and nods. the corners of his lips twitch upward in response. 

“mr. kingsley, a pleasure to see you.”

eggsy flashes a brilliant smile. “how are you?”

the woman puts a hand on eggsy’s bicep and lets him escort her across the room. “oh, wonderful. mr. thompson talks about you constantly- all good things,” she assures him. “we must have you over for dinner again soon. how is your mother?”

“very well,” he says. they exit the ballroom. 

the woman, who is not mrs. thompson, lifts a hand to pause him in the hall, and holds up her clutch. eggsy is about to continue making small talk, when something fuzzy in his earpiece catches his attention. 

“one moment, galahad- what is it?”

softer, eggsy hears, “just paperwork from shanghai.” then, almost impossibly audible, “how is he?”

something clicks in his head, and his blood _ boils _. 

the woman opens her clutch and rummages through it. she has a pistol. eggsy takes a shaky step back. she’s giving him a strange look now, but he can’t really see it. not now. not when he’s watching a bullet go through harry hart’s head. 

“mr. kingsley?” she says quietly.

“right,” he tries, coughing. merlin is quiet in his ear. “sorry. you were saying?”

she holds up the flash drive, looking concerned. “my husband asked me to give you this,” she begins. “though i can’t seem to remember if it was you or mr. greenfield who needed it. paperwork, i believe, i don’t know much about the details.”

_ shit _. “use your code, galahad,” merlin prompts, a bit tense. 

“ah, was it mr. greenfield’s brogues, or my oxfords?” the woman’s shoulders relax. 

“i believe-”

footsteps down the hall cut her off, and her eyes widen. eggsy takes a deep breath and forces himself to steady. his heart is pounding, merlin is dead _ silent _, his boss is murmuring something he can’t quite make out, and all he can think about is harry hart’s dead body. 

“is something the matter, mrs. thompson?” eggsy looks past the woman to the end of the hall, eyes locking with a man he’s not seen before. “mr. kingsley, i was so looking forward to meeting you.”

“eggsy, _ relax _,” merlin says. eggsy does not relax. 

slowly, the woman turns to face the man. he doesn’t look at her. he looks straight at eggsy as he reaches a hand behind him, and without a second thought- or a first- eggsy reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out his gun.

“what the _ fuck _ do you think you’re doing?!” merlin howls.

the man’s eyebrows lift, but he just laughs. “i thought as much.” he pulls out a phone, a _fucking_ _phone_ from his back pocket, and speaks. “send them in.”

the woman gives him a pained look before she runs.

“get _ out _, galahad.” it’s an order.

eggsy makes a break for it. he hears doors swing open and hit walls, footsteps thundering from all directions. he doesn’t remember where the front door is. he throws open a window and leaps out instead, without a glance up or down or to either side, and lands on the edge of the roof. before he can slip off, he crouches and grabs the ledge, swinging over and bracing his feet against the wall to get at least a cursory glance at his path down. two stories. 

he jumps and catches a first story windowsill with his toes, immediately thumping against the window for bare-minimum stability. with a grunt he steps off and into the lawn on the side of the house.

“car’s down the street.” merlin cuts the comms immediately following, and eggsy doesn’t give a fuck. he still sees harry hart’s dead body on the pavement. 

before he can even look for his ride, a cop car pulls up across the street. excellent. _ exactly _ what he needs. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i’m glad you asked.” eggsy spins on his heel, eyes locking with the man from before- who he, probably correctly, suspects is the millionaire in question- looking like the cat who got the fucking cream. “this man trespassed onto my private property, imitated a friend of mine to gain entry, and pulled a _ gun _ on me.”

the cop gives eggsy an exasperated look as he fumbles for his radio. “alright, mate, hands up where i can see ‘em.”

eggsy sighs. he lifts his hands just high enough to fire two amnesia darts, and he walks away.

\---

merlin doesn’t grace him with so much as a cursory glance when eggsy enters HQ. “arthur has requested to debrief you,” is all he says. it’s enough to finally send his heart rocketing down into the pit of his stomach.

he wonders what he’ll tell his mum. where they can afford to move. if the kingsman severance package is any good- outlook not good, given his dad’s shitty fucking medal. 

he stands outside arthur’s office and panics long enough that he actually hears an exasperated, “you may as well come in, galahad,” on the other side.

eggsy steels himself, opening the door with a shaking hand and letting it drop shut with a loud _ thunk _ behind him. “thought maybe if i just had a heart attack outside you wouldn’t have to fire me,” he says lamely.

harry pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs before dignifying that with a response. “i’m not going to fire you, galahad. agents past have done _ significantly _ worse things to warrant such measures.” eggsy holds his breath. “however, there are repercussions in order. have a seat.”

eggsy shuffles forward and drops into a chair opposite harry, who is pointedly focused on his paperwork and not eggsy. he’s a little glad for it. 

and then harry sets down his pen and looks eggsy in the eyes, and eggsy has to will himself to keep his fucking shit together, because the look of disappointment in harry’s eyes is one he is painfully, horribly familiar with. his eyes squeeze shut on reflex.

“what happened, galahad?”

eggsy snorts. his gaze focuses intently on his hands in his lap, twitching and picking at the seam of his suit sleeves. “i fucked it up. you know that, you were watching, yeah?”

he can see out of his peripheral that harry’s expression hasn’t changed. “i’m aware of that, but that isn’t what i’m referring to.” eggsy wasn’t aware his heart could sink any further, but there’s a first for everything. “you’ve been… for lack of a better term, like this since i returned to kingsman.” harry’s voice is softer now, and eggsy can’t stand it. he feels like he’s going to explode in his seat, every nerve ending the live wire of a human-sized grenade that harry hart seems intent on detonating. “what happened?”

“you _ died _!” eggsy shouts, the truth blurting out before he can bottle it back up again for another rainy, nonexistent day. he’s staring at the edge of harry’s desk now, willing all of the pent up anger and frustration and- grief, that’s what this is, it’s grief- to get the fuck out of his system before he bursts. “i fucking watched you get shot in the head and die, that’s what happened.”

when he lifts his gaze again, harry looks _ pained _. “i am very much alive, eggsy.”

“yeah, i can fucking see that,” eggsy spits. he feels tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but it turns out he’s fresh out of fucks to give about it. “is that supposed to change the fact that i literally watched you get shot in the head? that until now i thought you _ were _ dead, that i grieved you for months? am i supposed to act like that didn’t fucking kill me, to watch you supposedly die? to go to your fucking _ funeral _?” eggsy jumps out of his seat and slams his open palms onto harry’s desk. he’s openly crying, hot tears streaming down his cheeks.

he doesn’t want to talk about it.

harry reaches out to place a hand over eggsy’s, but as soon as he makes contact eggsy rips his hand away like it’s been burned, settling to shove both fists into his jacket pockets. 

“eggsy,” harry begins softly. eggsy squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself. “eggsy, look at me.”

“i’d rather not.”

“eggsy, i need you to look at me when i say this.”

eggsy is seconds from openly sobbing in front of his mentor, his boss, his- not quite sure there’s a title good enough to do justice to exactly how much this insane, infuriating, incredible man means to him. he opens his eyes.

the pained expression hasn’t left harry’s face- if anything, it’s deepened- and that only twists the knife in his gut where his heart is currently sat even more. “do you know why we didn’t tell you i was alive after v-day?”

eggsy snorts, wet and heatless. “no?”

harry’s expression softens. “in general, there are protocols in place to protect the status of fatally injured agents from being intercepted by the wrong hands. until a recovery has been made or, unfortunately, the agent is pronounced dead, we do not share that information with anyone within kingsman- the need to know basis, of course, being arthur and merlin.” eggsy nods. “however, that is not what happened on v-day.” harry pauses, pursing his lips carefully. “you saw when i was shot, correct?”

eggsy winces. he nods.

“in the head, yes?”

“i’d rather not fucking think about it,” eggsy mumbles. 

“it’s important,” harry assures him. he takes off his glasses with both hands, gaze dropping to study them. “the glasses, you know, are only a few decades old. merlin himself helped to design them. they’re good for many things, communication, facial recognition, mission reporting.” harry looks up at eggsy once more, and taps the lense of his glasses with one finger. “these lenses are bulletproof.”

eggsy feels his stomach drop. “really.”

harry’s gaze is hawklike on his face, but softer. he’s being ginger about this, like eggsy is a wounded animal, or a frightened child, and it makes eggsy feel entirely too small and helpless. “you were not wrong to assume damage had been done,” harry tells him. “the impact of the bullet and the fall did a number on my head, but it was no more than a minor concussion. my life was never in danger.”

“so why didn’t anyone tell me?” eggsy whispers. at that, harry sighs. the wounded look on his face almost hurts worse than his disappointment. 

“it was a test, eggsy.”

and just like that, the floor’s been ripped out from under him. eggsy falls back into his seat, wavering on the edge of it, with a look like he’s been punched in the stomach. it takes him a moment to find his breath, and when he inhales, it burns. 

“oh.”

“i knew you were loyal to me,” harry explains slowly. eggsy’s eyes are burning again. “and while it is admirable, we had to ensure you were loyal to kingsman. do you recall when percival went off the radar shortly after v-day?”

eggsy winces- _ oh _ . _ roxy’s mentor _. “oh.”

“precisely. it…” he pauses, looking down at his glasses as he sets them on his desk, then back at eggsy, brow knitted tightly together. “it is an important test, you must understand-”

“i do.”

harry nods, still looking tense. _ guilt _ , eggsy’s brain fills in helpfully. _ he looks guilty _. 

“s’not your fault,” eggsy tries, voice a feeble croak. “you didn’t make up the test, did you?”

harry laughs, but it’s a hollow noise. “i certainly did not.” his eyes are burning holes into eggsy’s, and it makes him squirm in his seat. he feels… raw, and vulnerable. like harry’s digging fingers into the muscle of his heart and squeezing it tightly, instead of explaining why he didn’t tell eggsy he wasn’t dead. 

“i wanted to tell you,” harry admits. his voice is quiet, almost imperceptible, but the office is dead silent enough to hear a pin drop. eggsy freezes in his seat. “i watched you save the world from valentine, and i was so proud of you. i knew how wonderfully you would do at kingsman from the moment we met, and i asked you to take care of that medal and take care of your mother.” harry smiles a little, weak, but fond. “i couldn’t break protocol.” he pauses, leaning forward just enough for eggsy to notice. “but i did want to.”

eggsy nods, swiping a hand over his cheek to smear away the tears that had leaked there. “we didn’t have a funeral for percy, though?” eggsy asks. “just you.”

“that’s where things got tricky.” harry replaces his glasses, leaning back in his seat. his eyes don’t leave eggsy. “at the same time we were testing you, and i was recovering, i was being installed as arthur. it required a bit of… time away, visiting the hundreds of branches of kingsman contacts. a lot of paperwork.” harry makes a face, and eggsy can’t help the small laugh he lets out. “i had to be away for a bit longer than percival did. and for that, i apologize.”

“s’not your fault,” eggsy repeats. he sniffles a little, and chokes on a laugh. “fuck, sorry, i look like a fuckin’ mess, huh.”

“it’s perfectly understandable,” harry assures him. “i do wish we could’ve had this conversation sooner.”

eggsy pauses, and then he crumbles. “_ fuck _,” he moans. “i fucked it all up, didn’t i?”

“you’ve done no such thing.” harry stands then, and circles the desk, coming to kneel beside eggsy’s chair, a hand on eggsy’s bicep. “you were upset, and rightfully so. you were right, you were forced to grieve when you should not have. it’s reasonable to be upset over such a thing.”

eggsy can’t help it. the tears are flowing fresh once more, and he scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands, but it only worsens the sting. “_ still- _ shit, m’sorry-”

without a word, harry grasps eggsy by both arms and hauls him out of his seat, then promptly pulls eggsy to his chest in a hug. 

and eggsy loses it. 

he can’t help it. he sobs into harry’s chest, throws his arms around harry’s shoulders and _ clings _ with all the strength he has left, like harry will disappear again the second he lets go. and harry lets him, lets him cry and shake and holds him just as tightly, like it killed him to watch eggsy suffer as badly as it killed eggsy to watch him die. 

“it just-” it’s all coming out in a rush now, months of pent up anger and _ anguish _ , raw and unfocused, “it’s probably stupid but, you were the first person to ever- _ give _ a shit about me, you know? and i look up to you so much, and all i had to remember you by was- you were so fucking disappointed in me, and i never- i never wanted to disappoint you, harry, you mean so much to me-”

“eggsy,” harry whispers. one hand is smoothing up and down eggsy’s back, chin anchoring eggsy’s head against his chest. “my dear boy, i could never be disappointed in you.”

“but i failed,” eggsy mumbles. 

“do you think you would be here right now if you had failed?” eggsy shakes his head. “then you have no reason to think you have disappointed me. if anything, i’m disappointed in myself for not telling you any of this sooner.”

before eggsy can cut in again, harry holds him back at arms length, looking him dead in the eyes. “you have done so beautifully at kingsman,” harry tells him, and there’s no room to argue with the determination on his face. “eggsy, i am _ very _ proud of you.”

eggsy nods sharply. he’s still crying. harry holds him for a little longer, lets him cry and apologize and talk to him. eggsy will have to be suspended for two weeks, designated to office work, and surely merlin will be doing a number on him tomorrow like he’d been itching to tonight. 

for now, harry holds him. 


End file.
